


sometimes, we fall apart

by kzumeknma (born_to_fly)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (sort of), Falling Out of Love, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, actually no this might qualify as heavy angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24660877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/born_to_fly/pseuds/kzumeknma
Summary: “Don’t be a stranger, okay, Shittykawa?”“Aww, Iwa-chan does love me after all!”“Dumbass, you know I do.”Sometimes, you fall out of love the same way you fall in- slowly, then all at once.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	sometimes, we fall apart

**Author's Note:**

> y'all it's 3 am and i have nothing to say except have fun
> 
> i have two modes: dumb comedy and bad angst! guess which this is!

It ends cordially,  _ it  _ being a five-year relationship. They’ve been best friends their whole lives, after all. It’d take more than a little relationship to break them.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay, Shittykawa?” 

“Aww, Iwa-chan does love me after all!”

“Dumbass, you know I do.”

And it’s the truth. They both love each other dearly, wholly, but they’re also being realistic. Oikawa will be going to train for professional volleyball in Argentina. Iwaizumi has been accepted into a sports medicine program in America. Better to part genially, as friends, before the wear of distance turns them bitter and breaks them apart. 

When it’s time for them to go their separate ways in the airport terminal, they hug, and it’s so final that Oikawa can’t help but cling that much tighter. “Hajime…” He clamps down, hard, on the heat welling behind his eyes. The airport is no place for tears.

“I love you, Tooru.” And if that cracks Oikawa’s heart in two, seeing the gleam of unshed tears well at the corners of Iwaizumi’s eyes shatters him. Iwaizumi had always been the strong one, the stable one, and Oikawa could count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Iwa-chan cry. 

_ One.  _ When they were six years old, they got into a stupid fight that culminated in Oikawa renouncing their friendship forever. Tears had leaked down Iwa-chan’s face in sheer frustration. This life-altering catastrophe was later resolved after the boys took their afternoon naps.

_ Two.  _ When Oikawa woke up from his knee surgery, Hajime sat at his side, still and silent as tears ran down his face. He hadn’t realized that Oikawa was awake, so Oikawa let him collect himself before “waking up” for good. 

_ Three.  _ When Oikawa had said  _ I love you  _ for the first time.

And  _ four _ . 

“I love you too, Hajime.” The last time. 

They’re both crying at that point, and they part with promises of texting every day and calling on weekends and staying best friends until they can be together again, but deep down, deeper than their conscious thought, they know this is goodbye. This is the death of an era, the end of a lifelong love. 

They turn and take their first steps away from each other, widening the chasm in between them. Iwaizumi might turn and look back, burning the sight of his oldest friend into his memory, but Oikawa wouldn’t know. For all of the lies told about Oikawa Tooru, there is one thing that is undeniably true- Oikawa’s entire life is based on going farther, reaching higher, being stronger, and when he has a goal in mind, he does not look back.

Sometimes, friendships are lost in the looks they don’t share, in the burning memories that are not meant to last, in the silhouette of a beautiful boy as he walks away.

Oikawa goes to Argentina. Iwaizumi goes to UC Irvine. They try their best, they really do, but that chasm between them has widened into an entire ocean, raging and roiling and swallowing old bridges one by one. The steady stream of texts trickles down to a handful every week, every month. The weekend calls dwindle from hours to minutes before stopping completely. Oikawa’s got a busy training schedule, after all, and Iwaizumi’s got the course load and academic stress of a pre-med student in California, so it’s not like either of them particularly notices beyond the occasional fleeting feeling that they’re forgetting something, someone.

They live their lives, and they grow apart. 

Sometimes that’s just how it is.

A little relationship didn’t break them. Distance didn’t break them. What distance did was much more insidious, chipping away at their trust, their love, drowning years and years of memories under an ocean, but so subtly that neither boy noticed.

There was no big heartbreak, no big break-up, but somewhere in their years apart, they went from  _ Hajime-and-Tooru _ to Iwaizumi. And Oikawa. 

Sometimes, love is lost like hyphens, like missed calls and halfhearted texts.

Sometimes, two people love each other, but they forget. 

Unbeknownst to the other, they both move back to Tokyo. Oikawa joins the V-League and meets up with an old orange-haired rival. The MSBY Black Jackals have never been quite so strong. Iwaizumi works at a hospital nearby and helps coach a local high school team in his spare time. His patients make steady recoveries, and Fukurodani’s status as a powerhouse is only bolstered by Iwaizumi’s careful instruction. They live less than a five-minute walk from each other, but neither is aware of it.

It’s been five years since they’ve last spoken. 

Oikawa passes Iwa-chan in the train station. They make eye contact, and Oikawa offers a polite nod, friendlier than he normally is, and a small smile, and he remembers, suddenly, childhood summers and bug-catching, Godzilla and aliens. Fond nostalgia hits him like a wave, but Oikawa shakes it off. He’s almost late for practice, after all, and people don’t become first-string setters on the National Team by showing up late, especially with dumbass geniuses out in droves. 

_ I’ll call him later, definitely _ , Oikawa thinks, walking into the gym, and then he is lost in the familiar rhythm of run-jump-swing, in the shouts of  _ nice kill!  _ and  _ don’t mind! _ He thinks about his technique, his strength, his strategies. He thinks about his team, about the upcoming match against his old kouhai (damn that Kageyama!), about Olympic try-outs. He doesn’t think about Iwaizumi. When he gets back to his apartment, he’s exhausted, and he’s so grateful that his roommate made dinner that he forgets to call. 

Sometimes, it just happens like this. 

It’s been five years since they’ve last spoken.

Iwaizumi passes Oikawa in the train station. He’s a little bit shocked to see his old childhood friend there, but he hasn’t the time for a proper reunion- he can’t risk being late to his first patient’s appointment. And he’s got Oikawa’s number, after all. He can just call later. (Later, Fukurodani’s new ace has a breakdown, and Iwaizumi doesn’t call). 

Sometimes, it just happens like this. 

The biggest heartbreak comes not in explosive bouts of anger or in bitter fights. No, the biggest heartbreak comes in silence, in apathy, in a slow, steady loss over years. 

Oikawa passes Iwaizumi in the train station. They make eye contact, but they don’t hold it. Oikawa’s an Olympic bronze medalist, now. Iwaizumi’s got his own clinic, now. They are far beyond childhood love, beyond summers spent watching the stars, beyond years standing side-by-side on the court.

They do not reconnect. In another world, Iwaizumi reaches out first, but Oikawa is the one to propose. In another world, two boys reunite as men, and they relearn each other and all of their growth. In this world, the chasm widens. Numbers change. Love redirects.

Sometimes, it happens like this.

Two strangers pass each other in the train station. 

It’s not a tragedy. 

(but isn’t it?)

**Author's Note:**

> i have no defense for this. this is arguably the worst fic i've written ever in terms of flow and artistry, so if you've made it this far, thank you! 
> 
> (a short interlude)  
> me: i'm feeling sad!  
> my brain: so like write about it  
> me, channeling bokuto: ...how do i even write again?  
> my brain, channeling akaashi: ahh, weakness number 38. often forgets how to write. just do ur best  
> me: writes this
> 
> as always, comments/critiques/kudos are appreciated!!


End file.
